


Contingencies

by noelleleithe



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-23
Updated: 2011-02-23
Packaged: 2017-10-15 21:38:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/165178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noelleleithe/pseuds/noelleleithe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a year now they'd each been swimming alone, fighting the current. It was time for them to rest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Contingencies

**Author's Note:**

> "He alone is wise who can accommodate himself to all contingencies of life; but the fool contends, and struggles, like a swimmer, against the stream." -- Latin Proverb

It wasn't who she was expecting, and she paused too long before opening the door.

"Dana?" She still wasn't used to hearing that name, even after a year. Before he could call it again, she released the five locks, two of which had not been there a week earlier, and pulled the door open.

"Hi, John," she said, mustering something close to a smile. "Something wrong?"

"Uh, no," he said. She studied his body language and stepped back, lifting her hand to invite him in. He made it only three steps before he turned back; she took the time to re-engage two locks before facing him.

She watching him take a deep breath; in her mind, each half-second he inhaled increased her estimation of the seriousness of his call.

"I think you and William should move in with me."

She wasn't expecting that, but it didn't matter that she couldn't respond, because he barely paused.

"I don't mean that the way it must sound, Dana, but I have that big house all to myself and there's plenty of room for both of you," he said, talking faster than she could ever remember. "The extra bedrooms are on the other side of the house, and there's a big bathroom and plenty of storage in the basement and the attic, because I know you need that for all of ..."

He stopped short and let the silence take over. She could hear the mobile creaking across the room, a sound as familiar to her now as the tones of William's cries. He was getting too big for the bassinet, but it gave him more room than his car seat, and she no longer let him out of her line of sight.

John was talking again. "I don't expect you to make up your mind right now, Dana. But if we were splitting costs, we could afford a new alarm system, and there's already a neighborhood security patrol. There'd be two of us around, most of the time anyway." He paused, and his voice dropped a bit. "After this week, Dana, I think it's the best idea."

He was wrong, but she didn't tell him that.

==========

His lips were soft as William's new-baby skin, gentle against her as he sealed a promise. Their son squirmed between them, his hand bumping her shoulder. She never wanted to move, but their lives never worked that way.

The phone rang and they broke apart, reluctant. Mulder gave a lopsided smile and glanced down at William. "Go on, Scully, I got him."

She could feel herself smiling as she answered. "Hello?" The line crackled with static, and she had trouble recognizing the voice at first.

"Scully, I'm sorry to have to tell you this, and I don't have much time," Skinner said, and the tone of his voice made her skin prickle. "I have reliable information that says Mulder, and anyone near him, is in immediate and mortal danger. It came from Deputy Director Kersh and I didn't believe it at first, but I've checked other channels and trust me on this, Scully; he's telling the truth. I can't say more now, but please take this seriously. I'll call again if I can."

The line went dead, and it took only seconds for Scully to swing into action. She didn't know what it was that made her believe in the threat, after so many had come to nothing, but she was on the phone in moments and had the Gunmen on the move before she even returned to the bedroom.

When she did, she almost lost her conviction. Mulder had settled against the headboard of her bed, William still cradled in his arms. He was studying his son's face, running one long finger across the skin of his tiny cheek. He whispered words too soft for Scully to hear, but the tone held such tenderness, such love, that she was loath to interrupt.

She had no choice.

"Mulder," she said in a low voice. He looked up, the smile already disappearing; he read her so well he didn't need more.

"What's wrong?" he asked softly, and she swallowed, hard.

"You have to go."

==========

"You don't have to answer me now, Dana," John said. "But if you decide to do it, it won't take much time. There's almost nothing in those rooms, and ..."

She let him talk. It was a nice gesture, and it wasn't a half-bad idea. There'd be two of them to watch over William, and she'd have more room, plus a backyard for when Will was a little older.

It could work, if she hadn't already made up her mind.

She was ready to stop. Years ago, Mulder had once told her, Deep Throat had compared him to a shark, always moving, never resting. She'd joined his swim readily, always by his side, sometimes following, sometimes guiding.

For a year now they'd each been swimming alone, fighting the current. It was time for them to rest.

The response she gave, however, was non-committal. "Thank you, John. That's an incredibly generous offer. Let me think about it, all right?"

He nodded, a little too quickly. "Sure, sure," he said, moving toward the door. "Just ... whenever you're ready. If you are."

She nodded, opening the door for him. "I'll let you know."

He gave a small smile. "Okay. See you later."

She shook her head as she closed the door. She crossed the room to the bedroom and looked in at the suitcases in the corner.

No, John, she thought. Probably not.

==========

It took Mulder barely three hours to pack up what he had to have and what he needed to leave with her, not much more time than it took to work out the details of his departure. Scully couldn't articulate why it was so important; some combination of words got through to him, though, much sooner than she'd expected. He'd always put more stock in intuition than she had -- especially hers, even though she rarely trusted it herself.

This day was one of the few times she did.

The Gunmen asked no questions when they arrived, only taking instructions. They set up Mulder's on-the-road account out of the emergency fund she'd talked him into putting together after Antarctica, and gave him directions on how to retrieve one of the sets of false identification they'd filed away even earlier than that. Scully started once to explain the situation, but a look from Frohike stopped her. Something in her voice must have told him to follow orders and keep his mouth shut, and Byers and Langly followed his lead. It was probably better that way, she realized; the less they knew, the better.

She could never have comprehended such loyalty, if it hadn't been for Mulder.

The Gumen would also take care of Mulder's apartment quickly and quietly, moving most of what he'd left in his apartment into the back of their warehouse-like headquarters, where it would blend in with their eclectic mix of things they couldn't part with. In 24 hours, they promised, they'd make it look like Mulder had never lived in Apartment 42, and Scully believed it, even if she knew she'd choose not to inspect. Visiting his apartment had been hard enough when he'd been missing. She could not bear the thought of seeing it stand empty.

Eight hours after Skinner's call, less than two days after Scully had given birth, Mulder set the last suitcase down in her living room. They'd sorted through everything, paring down what he'd gathered on his whirlwind trip to his apartment down to the bare essentials. Three of the bags would go with him; the Gunmen would pick up the others the next day.

He hadn't commented when she'd pulled out several of his well-worn T-shirts and tucked them into a bottom drawer of her dresser.

==========

She was thankful now for the long maternity leave, three months spent mostly at home, another three spent part-time, easing back into a routine. She'd used the time off to rest and take care of William, of course, but she'd also systematically worked her way through most of her belongings, separating those things with real meaning or use from the trinkets, knickknacks and papers she'd accumulated over the years but did not need. Goodwill received at least a dozen boxes and bags, and a small collection of particularly meaningful items were wrapped and packed with utmost care and stored in her mother's attic.

She'd brought up the subject of identification and accounts with the Gunmen just once. "Give us a couple hours' notice, Scully, and you're all set," Frohike had said, finality in his tone. They were ready for it before she was.

Her journey would be complicated, however, by William. Even packing as light as she could manage, she would never have been able to take everything they needed in one trip. She would drive, not fly, and she would need enough to get by for at least a week on the road. Maybe more, if the meeting was more problematic than anticipated.

She stood in the middle of her living room, her eyes closed. She was leaving in barely two hours, and she didn't even know where she was going.

==========

William was fed and dozing when Mulder slipped into the bed next to her, spooning up behind her. His body felt so familiar against hers, as if they'd done this for years instead of only a handful of times, and she felt a stab of intense longing.

"Mmmmm." Mulder wrapped an arm around her, his hand light on her stomach. "You smell good," he said, his mouth next to her ear.

She almost smiled. "I don't know where you think flattery is going to get you, Mulder," she said, striving for a light, reproachful tone.

He sighed melodramatically. "Nowhere, of course," he replied. "Why they couldn't wait at least a few months until we could do up a decent goodbye fuck ..."

"Mulder!" she yelped, laughing despite herself, just as she knew he intended; she could hear his low chuckle from behind her in response. He'd confessed once, not long before his disappearance, that he'd cracked many of his jokes over the years in the hopes of hearing her laugh, a sound he described in his unique way as "little tufts of joy."

"You know, Mulder, there are other ways," she said, sliding a hand up his arm in suggestion. She was surprised when he stopped her hand's journey.

"This is a mutual goodbye, Scully," he said. "Together, or not at all."

She shook her head. "I can't, Mulder ..."

"Then I can't either."

==========

Like Mulder, she'd managed to fit her necessities into three suitcases. William, however, required bed, stroller, car seat, diaper bag, food and toys, in addition to clothes.

She'd found a stroller/car seat combo that seemed to work well, and she fit two weeks' worth of his tiny clothes into one small bag, with enough space left for his towels and washcloths. His favorite blanket and Pooh went into the diaper bag; a box full of food and a super-sized pack of diapers were already in her trunk, courtesy of that morning's trip to the warehouse club.

She was getting to be an expert at efficient packing. Maybe she could parlay that into a new career.

The Gunmen were due in an hour, and William was due for lunch. She'd weaned him partly in anticipation of what she was about to do, so lunch was cereal and strained peaches followed by a bottle of formula. Almost as an afterthought, she made herself a sandwich out of her last two slices of slightly stale bread, toasted, and the last of her lettuce, tomato and cheese. Her refrigerator was nearly bare, after her cleaning binge of several days before, so there wouldn't be much left to clean up after she was gone.

Her mother wouldn't be doing it alone. The Gunmen would help, and she felt sure now that Doggett would, too.

If they could convince him not to start a manhunt instead.

========

"Actually," Mulder said a few minutes later, "I have another idea."

"Oh?" Scully murmured, eyes closed, warm and comfortable and reluctant to move.

He was silent for a moment, and then he started talking, using that low, almost rasping voice he almost never used outside of their bed. "We're kissing," he said, "lying on your bed next to each other and kissing, just kissing. We're naked, but we're only kissing now, long and deep, soft and short, little nips now and then, talking a little bit around kisses. Every few minutes I'll slip away and kiss along your jaw, or you'll kiss down my neck, but we keep coming back to each other's mouths. Our arms are around each other, but we're not caressing yet. We're kissing." He paused. "Can you feel me kissing you?"

She nodded slowly, seeing his scene in her mind. "Kissing," she murmured back to him.

"We kiss for a long time," he went on. "We love kissing each other, and we kiss for a long, long time.

"But eventually, we want do to more than kiss. So we start caressing. Slowly, gently, just brushing across each other's skin, down our arms, across our backs, our shoulders. Your skin is so soft, Scully, and your hands feel so good. So we caress, and we kiss."

"Mmmmm." She could almost feel the warmth of his skin under her fingers, his hands on her.

"I love to touch you, Scully," he said. "And I love it when you touch me."

She could listen to his voice all night long.

==========

As she ate, she thought again about John's offer. Despite the animosity of their first meeting, John Doggett had turned out to be a good man and a loyal friend. She'd bristled under his protective attitude at first, but she'd eventually learned that it was simply a part of him, not any kind of special treatment toward her, or because she was a woman. He had an innate compassion and desire to help that sometimes reminded her so strongly of Mulder that she could barely stand to be around him.

Once Mulder has been returned, as expected, he and Doggett had clashed more than once -- over the X-files, over their different points of view, over Mulder's distrust of Doggett's motives. Mulder had gradually accepted Doggett, to a degree, even if after Mulder left, Scully could not justify telling Doggett why -- if nothing else, out of fear for the safety of both men.

She hadn't been all that surprised by Doggett's offer. She knew he rattled around alone in that big house of his, and she knew he'd been concerned for her safety since Mulder's second "disappearance." Last week's apparent attempt to kidnap William, the second such try in four months, had renewed that protective streak she knew he'd started trying to hide, out of deference to her wishes.

It was a good offer, and in another situation, she might have even considered it.

She didn't, because she had another place to go.

==========

Mulder continued to murmur to her, still not moving, his breath warm against the side of her neck. "We kiss and caress for a long time, Scully, but eventually we have to move on. We can't help it. Touching feels so good that we need to touch other places, to be touched. To feel more."

Scully fought to keep her breathing steady as Mulder continued to unravel his story. "Your breast is soft when I cup it in my hand, but the tip is so hard against my palm. I tighten my hand and you move against me, moaning, a sound that goes straight to my cock, Scully, every time I hear it."

He pressed his hips against her back and she did moan at the feel of his erection against her. He chuckled unevenly. "Oh, yeah, you like it too, you like it so much that you slide your hand down and you touch my cock. You wrap your hand around me and it feels like heaven, Scully, touching you like that, feeling you touch me."

She wanted to touch him like that. She wanted him to squirm under her hands, to hear him groan out her name, to watch his face twist up in ecstasy.

She stayed still, and listened.

==========

The guys arrived in a flurry of activity that caught her off guard at first. Frohike commandeered her laptop to set up her accounts, Langly started carrying her things to the car, and Byers sat down across from her at the table where she was finishing William's bottle, watching with a look she could only describe, without knowing why, as longing.

They were finished faster than she expected, and she took the extra time to be sure she wasn't leaving anything behind. She sent Langly to the basement to get the rest of Mulder's things, and a few of her boxes, too, and she asked Frohike to take her old desktop computer and back it up to be safe.

She wandered through her apartment one last time, touching a few items here and there, trying not to blush as her gaze lingered on the bed, the sofa, the shower, the few but memorable places she and Mulder had "christened" during the all-too-short time they'd been lovers in the physical sense.

She stopped short as that thought entered her mind, and smiled a brief, secretive smile. If all went well, they would be lovers again in as little as a week.

It wasn't the only thing she had to look forward to, but it certainly ranked high on the list.

==========

"... touch each other, and when we can't take any more you pull me on top of you and inside of you, and it's perfect and beautiful, Scully, the way it should always be ..."

Scully was trembling all over, waves of pleasure washing over her. He still had not touched her, except where their bodies rested together and his hand lay across her stomach. She could feel his erection against her back, the small movements his hips made as he pressed against her; his voice grew deeper and more unsteady with every new picture he painted with his words.

"... and then you come, Scully, and I feel your muscles flutter all around me, and you call out my name and it's more than I can take, I fall right behind you ..." He cut off on a short cry and ground against her back, and she whimpered in response, as if she shared in a piece of his climax. Her body wasn't ready yet to respond; her mind was another matter.

He took a few moments to recover, and when he did, his first words were an apology. "I'm sorry, Scully, I said I wasn't going to ..."

She cut him off with a sharp shake of her head. "No, Mulder," she said. "That *was* mutual."

What's mine is yours, she thought; your pleasure is my pleasure, and your pain my pain. She knew he understood when he relaxed again, and his hand pulled her closer.

==========

She was wiping off the dining room table when Byers came in from the living room. He held out an envelope and she took it, setting it on the counter next to her and resting her hand on top of it.

"You head southwest," Byers told her. "Take whatever route you want; we brought a new atlas for you, too. But end up in Lebanon, Tennessee, and you'll have a package at the post office." He smiled a little. "Box 42."

She folded the wet paper towel she held in half, then quarters and eighths, knowing she was showing her nerves but seeing no real need to stop. "How long will it take?" she asked.

"We estimate eight days," he replied. "We'll call your mother tomorrow night, and Skinner and Doggett the next morning. They'll be told to expect to hear from you in about a month."

Unspoken, Scully knew, was that the call would come again from the Gunmen, if she didn't check in by then. Contingencies upon contingencies, and yet she knew all their planning could never cover every possibility.

She dropped the cloth into the trash and slid William out of his chair. "Let's finish things up."

==========

William was sleeping again when Mulder finished in the shower the next morning, and she was sitting in the living room, wide awake despite her lack of sleep. She couldn't stop staring at his bags. She knew all the reasons he had to go; she'd used them all to convince him the day before. And yet here she was, trying to tell herself again that they were doing the right thing.

"Hey." She looked up at him, dressed but shoeless, his hair still damp. He smiled that tender, off-center smile that always hit her behind the knees, and she could feel the tears she'd been fighting make another appearance. He was beside her on the sofa, his arms sliding around her, almost before she realized he'd moved.

They sat there for a few minutes before she pulled away and stood up. Tucking her hair behind her ears, she waved a hand toward his bags. "I guess you'd better ..."

"Yeah," he said, rising more slowly. He reached for the duffel bag and slung it over his shoulder, picking up one larger bag in each hand and stepping over to the door, where he set them down again and turned to her. He opened his arms, and she stepped into them.

He rocked them back and forth a few times, and she felt him bend near her ear. "It's okay," he said softly. "It's not forever."

She closed her eyes and wished she could be sure.

When she opened them again, he was gone.

==========

"Are you sure that's it, Scully?" Frohike said, leaning close to her window.

"I'm sure," she replied. She glanced behind him at the other two men standing on the curb. "I don't really know how to thank you all ..."

Frohike waved a hand. "Don't mention it," he said. "You and Mulder've done a lot for us. Least we can do is lend a hand."

She smiled, lifted a hand to the side of his face and placed a light kiss on his cheek. "Thank you anyway, Melvin," she said. "You're a true and loyal friend."

She tried not to chuckle as Frohike blushed and mumbled something in reply before backing away. She reached out a hand to Langly and then Byers in turn, pulling them near for the same treatment and getting a similar response from each.

Finally it was time. Starting the car, she took one last look at the apartment building, the beat-up van, and the three extraordinary men standing next to it.

She put the car in gear, and drove away without looking back.

**Author's Note:**

> You can never tell when inspiration will strike. This one actually struck twice, as two separate stories, but then I saw the parallels and realized they shouldn't be separated. So I brought them back together. Metaphor much? ;)
> 
> Thanks to Dreamshaper, Lysandra, and Juliettt for bang-up beta duty. Feedback always adored.
> 
> This story is (c) Copyright 2001 by Noelle Leithe. "The X-Files" universe, and all related characters and plot elements, are the property of FOX Broadcasting and 1013 Productions and are borrowed here without profit or intent for profit.


End file.
